


The Earl's Musician

by darkwing7174



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Allen Walker is a Noah, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Allen Walker, Canon - Anime, Dark, F/M, Gen, Imported from FF.net, Kidnapped Allen Walker, Post-Anime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 17:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkwing7174/pseuds/darkwing7174
Summary: Kidnapped victim or newest recruit, he isn't sure. Either way, Allen Walker now belongs to the Millennium Earl—whether he likes it or not. Allen x Road





	1. Chapter 1

He ground his wrists together, noting the harsh squeal the metal cuffs made. The links of chain had a way of burning and freezing his skin at the same time, transforming soft and pale into chafed and inflamed. He had already tried to sever the chains with Innocence-reinforced claws, but the metal wasn't even scratched, which he supposed was due to the purple sheen that gleamed across the links. Magic, he thought.

Plans of escape were long forgotten, replaced by thoughts of  _thirsty, hungry,_ and  _chains hurt_. It was a struggle to stay conscious, let alone coherent. His eyes had trouble locking on to a certain point with his vision constantly blurring and wavering, so it took him awhile to realize someone had entered his cell. He jerked when a voice cut through the deathly silence.

"Hello, exorcist."

Sharp and sweet and dangerous. Why was that voice so familiar? He shouldered his back against the wall, momentarily grateful for something stable behind him. He wanted so badly to look at his captor, to see who had imprisoned him, but he couldn't get his eyes to focus and settled on staring at the shaft of light coming from the open doorway.

"Why…" his voice rattled in his parched throat _. Why have you brought me here? Why have you imprisoned me?_ His visitor cleared her throat with a delicate cough.

"Ever since the first Fourteenth betrayed the Earl for God, the Noah of Music has been disgraced and exiled from the ranks of the Noah Clan," the voice said. "But I guess Millennie thought you were different, deserved another chance, whatever."

Footsteps came toward him and polished boots stepped into his line of vision. A shadow fell over him and he screamed at his body, begging it to cooperate, but he seemed to be completely helpless and paralyzed. A kiss on his forehead, light but lasting, was like the chains that bit into his wrists, fire and ice.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Allen Walker." The boots retreated, and he saw the light from the door thinning until, with a thud, the cell door closed. He was aware of the phantom kiss on his forehead, still stinging. It felt like poison. Struggling with the chains, he tried to claw the itch, rip the skin off, anything just to get rid that horrible imprint of lips. It felt like it had bored into his mind.

He heard laughter from the hall.

With a sharp crack, his forehead exploded in paralyzing agony and his responding scream lasted only a second before he slumped, his eyes rolling back in his head.

As he fell unconscious, a small cross, like a star, materialized in the center of his forehead.

* * *

"Ugh…Oh God." Allen pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to smother the incessant pounding in his head. He was half-startled by the chains that bound his wrists, which clanked and clanged like Marley's ghost.

"Oh, He can't help you now."

Allen whipped around, sending the chains flying and skittering across the stone. Road laughed at him. She was lying on her stomach with her chin in her hands, kicking her legs back and forth. He narrowed his eyes but instantly regretted it as bursts of pain shot through his forehead.

" _You_ ," he spat, glaring through lank strands of hair. "WHY DID YOU BRING ME HERE?" Road gazed at him with half-lidded eyes, looking completely unconcerned at his shouting.

"I didn't do shit, exorcist," she said. "Though I wouldn't have minded. Don't you remember who brought you here?"

His eyes widened _._

He had been in his room at the Dark Order, deep within the oblivion of sleep. He remembered having sickly dreams, though he couldn't recall what any of them were about. A tentative knock at his door had roused him, and he thought he heard Lenalee's soft voice, asking if she could come in. They'd needed to talk about something, he remembered, something important. Bleary eyed, he sat up in bed.

Then a gloved hand had reached through his wall, seized the back of his shirt, and yanked him backwards; his back slammed against the wall where he stuck like he was nailed to the stone. Another hand wrapped around his throat in a crushing grip, cutting off his breath. He felt hot breath on his neck and lips against his ear, and then, in a venomous whisper, " _Come with me, boy_." Then his body was pulled  _through_  the wall and flung into the night, dropping the thousands of feet from his room in the Dark Order, his last glimpse of a manic grin before he passed out. Only one person had a power like that…

"Tyki," he whispered. That wasn't possible. He had exorcised the Noah of Pleasure for good with the activated Crown Clown. He  _couldn't_  have his Noah powers. Road kicked her feet in affirmation.

"Yep!" Her lazy grin put him on edge, and he thought it was stupid since the whole chained up in a cell thing should have put him on edge already.

"Now lets be serious," she said, like he was the one sitting there chuckling and swinging his legs. "As much as I adore you being here, especially in the long-term, Jasdebi and Skinn are a bit pissed off about all of this."

Jasdebi? The Noah twins? Hadn't Krory taken care of them in the Arc? And he was sure Kanda said he killed the Noah, Skinn.

"Wait, did you say  _long_ -term?Ugh—why am I discussing this with you? WHY THE HELL AM I HERE?" He had the satisfaction of seeing her face awash in surprise at his booming accusations.

"Didn't I tell you last night? Millennie's adopting you, exorcist. You're a Noah Clansman now."

_What?_

"I'm an exorcist! I'm not a Noah! I—"

Road held up a heart shaped mirror conjured out of nowhere, reflecting his face back at him. He looked in horror at his appearance.

Huge, panicked eyes stared back at him. Stark white hair, pale eyes, and a jagged scar running the length of his face. But that wasn't what made him so frightened.

In the middle of his forehead was the Mark of the Noah. It was small, nowhere near the size of the band of crosses on Road's forehead, but it was there. The pounding in his head increased, and he had an image of Road smacking the backs of his eyes. And then in his head, past the horrible ache, yes,  _there_. Humming. A tiny song in his mind, like the one from the Arc.

"You are now," Road said, laughter like tinkling bells as his skin changed to the dark charcoal of a Noah for the first time.

* * *

 The music was deafening. Every pitch, every cadence, every instrument and song rang in his head. He couldn't see anymore. He couldn't taste or feel or  _breathe_. All his mind would register was the cacophonous blasting that resonated through his skull. He started to scream, then louder and louder because he couldn't hear it himself. It was horrible, terrible, unbearable, make it  _stopstopstop_. He thrashed around wildly and nearly tore his shoulder out of his socket when the chains pulled tight around him.

" _Allen! Allen! SHUT UP!"_ The voice was faint, but pierced through the endless discordance. Yes, please, make it stop. Shut up. Shut up.  _Shut up._  His nose started to bleed, but it clotted instantly, the tissue regenerating at an inhuman pace.

"Allen! Shut the hell up!" It was louder now, or maybe the music was fainter. He felt someone shaking his shoulders and then a sharp slap to his cheek. He barely felt it, still screaming, now frothing at the mouth. Suddenly a weight pressed down on him. It wasn't substantial, but in his head, searing away the sounds of the music and crushing him down with a huge, authoritative aura.

_'SILENCE!'_  a voice boomed, much deeper and harsher than Road's voice. He gasped, his scream choked in his throat.  _The First Noah_. The order was undeniable and he froze, shedding the charcoal skin for his normal pale and converted completely from his black form. All his senses flooded back to him and the mark on his forehead dulled to its normal black, ceasing its burning white glow.

Road was panting in front of him, hands on his shoulders and a drop of sweat running down her face. Her fingers were digging into his shoulders, and she was staring at him with burning eyes. He had never seen her look so tense, so enraged.

"I..." he stuttered. He no longer knew what to think. What the hell just happened to him?

Road turned away and gave a long, shuddering sigh, like she was trying to contain herself.

"You see?" she said, voice calm but a little hoarse. "You're a Noah, Allen Walker.  _There's no going back_." She hissed the last part at him and, with a flick of her wrist, released the chains he now realized were constricted around him, fully ablaze with purple light.

The door slammed shut, leaving Allen in darkness. He could only stare in front of him where Road had been a second ago, shocked. His shoulder ached, his head ached, and his Innocence felt numb. What did she mean 'no going back'? He caught his reflection again in the mirror Road left lying on the floor.

A complete band of crosses stretched across his forehead now, inky black against his pale skin. What  _was_  he? Half Noah, half exorcist? Didn't both sides exist to destroy one another? The mirror fell from his hands with a clatter, a crack going down the middle. What was he going to tell the Order?

_There's no going back._

That's right, even though he was an Innocence-adapter the Dark Order would never take him back now. He had been accused of heresy just on the suspicion that he could control the Arc, what would they say about him having the Mark of the Noah?

Allen couldn't feel his Innocence, although it was plainly still attached to him. Had it been damaged by the glowing chains, or Road? Either way, he couldn't shift it to its clawed form or its activated state. Maybe it was dead, rejecting his new Noah state. He clenched his fists, wishing it didn't have to be this way. But it was, he thought, eyes hardening with resolve. Yes, there was no going back.

He was a Clansman now.

* * *

 Road dragged a frazzled hand through her hair as she stomped up the stairs leading up from the cell. She never would have imagined a newborn Noah could be so strong and defy her for so long. She'd needed to pull rank and use her position as the First to finally suppress Allen, and even then she had to use quite a bit of power. Of course, the Fourteenth was strong enough to flee the Noah Clan in the first place, so bringing him back under control was bound to be a struggle. Still...

She unbuttoned her coat and opened the side pocket, allowing the glittering green dust within to drift to the floor. She had acquired two Innocence fragments that morning and recalled the dread and delight she felt when they shuddered to dust under the pressure of Allen's musical scream. There was no telling if either of them was the Heart—she doubted they were anyway—since they were both destroyed at the same time. What a powerful gift. She did need to consider that every Noah's power was most potent when first released, but that didn't mean that Allen couldn't tap into that power eventually. Now she grasped what the Earl saw in him, regardless of his exorcist origins. He would be a key asset to the Earl's plans.

And maybe, she thought, smirking, even in a few of her own.

* * *

 The next morning, Allen woke to keys jangling as his cell door was unlocked. The clockwork around his eye convulsed as he realized it was not Road, but two Level Three demons behind the door, one of them holding more cuffs and chains. He grimaced, having an image of demons coming in to sedate him like a rabid dog. They didn't say a word as they shuffled in and unwrapped the chains from his waist and legs, but their contempt was evident. One gripped his arms and forced them together as the other removed the burning-freezing chains from his wrists and placed another set of cuffs on him, which were attached to a leash-like chain. Were they afraid he was going to escape?

The demon holding his arms had a painfully hard grip on them, and a bone in his right forearm started to groan. He stifled the urge to release his Innocence, although, in his weakened state, it would have been hard to take both of them out anyway.

They walked up the stairs, one in front and one behind, into a dimly lit corridor. They reached the end of the hallway and a set of double-doors opened before them. He glanced around as they stepped into a huge room, clearly a ballroom, though Allen had never been in one. Candles flickered in the corners of the room, but it was otherwise dark like the corridor. The Level Three demons pushed him forward and flung his chain to the carpet.

"Next time," the demon growled, addressing the center of the room. "Get one of your zombies to play escort." It jerked its head toward a humanoid demon with charcoal skin and a star on its forehead. There were several of these demons flitting around a large table, all dressed in maid and servant clothes.

Allen couldn't see their souls.

He heard the demons stalk away as he strained his eyes towards the center of the room. As his vision slowly adjusted, he could make out a dining table, huge and heavily shadowed. Allen couldn't make out the faces of those who sat there, but he instinctively felt their presence. The Noah.

"Allen!" A petite shadow sat up and waved.

Was this his new family? His hands were still cuffed, but the chain lay untouched on the floor. He walked over to the table. Road came into view as he approached, her heart-shaped face illuminated like a jack-o-lantern in the candlelight. And there was Tyki, Skinn, Lulubell and Jasdebi, all seated around the table, their expressions still hidden in the shadows. He caught sight of the food a few seconds after he smelled it and almost started drooling. He ran the rest of the way to an empty seat, only decorum and his still-chained hands keeping him from digging into the feast.

He was just about to say,  _Screw it_  and stick his face in his food when a familiar chuckle made his blood run cold. He raised his eyes to the head of the table slowly, as if he was hoping the person would disappear if he took long enough.

But there he was: the same rotund figure and perpetual sneer, glasses and top hat shrouding his demonic eyes. This man was neither human, nor demon, and both his hands quivered in disgust. He couldn't believe he was so careless. The weight of his betrayal hit him hard, and it twisted his gut to think of how unexpected it was. He shouldn't have thought it was so simple: just walk up and join the Noah Clan. No, he was joining forces with the very being he lived to destroy.

"Good evening, Allen Walker."

The Millennium Earl.

...

* * *

  **A/N:**  This takes place about a couple of months after the end of the anime (a.k.a red exorcist coats, Lenalee with short hair, Crystal-type Innocence, and post 'Noah's' Arc). If anyone who reads the manga has any corrections or info relevant to the story, it would be awesome if you could message me or whatever to give me some insight. This isn't a oneshort, so if I get enough reviews I'll post the next chapter as soon as I can. Please critique!


	2. Chapter 2

Allen stood abruptly, knocking his chair backward and sending silverware clattering to the floor. His Innocence was twitching now, and even if he still couldn't feel it, the cross on the back of his hand glowed green. So his Innocence hadn't left him, he thought smugly. He was just about to activate it when a sharp tug on his chain sent him staggering. The cuffs hummed and buzzed for a moment before they delivered a jolt of electricity to his system that sent him to his knees, the aftershocks shooting up his arms and making him writhe.

"Mind your place, exorcist," a voice to his left growled, fisting the chain in his massive palm. Allen shot a glare at the Noah of Wrath, evidently unscathed from his encounter with Kanda.

"My, my," the Earl said. "I offer hospitality and I get attacked in return." The Earl slid his serpentine gaze over to Tyki. "I thought I sent you to convince Walker-san to join us, not drag him in by his ears." Tyki casually traced the rim of his wineglass.

"You said to retrieve the exorcist,  _Hakushaku_ , so that's what I did." He glanced at Allen and gave him a rather feral grin. Jasdero and Debitto shot out of their seats and Skinn pounded his fist on the table, the rattled chain sending Allen flying.

"You brought him here?" the twins shouted simultaneously, pointing accusing fingers at Tyki. Skinn huffed like a bull about to charge and knocked his plate off the table.

"We can't bring an exorcist here! What good would he do us? Just kill him!" Skinn roared. "I'll do it myself, because there's no way this  _human_  could become a Noah."

Road spoke for the first time, yellow eyes glowering at him beneath thick eyelashes.

"It doesn't matter, Skinn," she said, staring at Allen. "It's an order from Millennie." Skinn grit his teeth and gripped the edge of the tablecloth. "Besides," she added. "He's already got the  _stigmata_ , he's one of us already. Don't you feel his presence?"

Jasdebi immediately launched into another string of outbursts, waving their arms and pointing their guns at everyone, even themselves. Even Lulubell voiced her opinion, and Allen found himself understanding the disapproving meows of the cat.

"Well who's going to train him?" Skinn snarled. "A Noah will go mad if he doesn't properly hone his skills!"

"Yes, we all know the result of that," Tyki quipped, curling his lip in distaste.

There was a short silence as they all glared at one another, daring someone to step up.

"I'll train him," Road said, and Debitto instantly protested, telling her it was dangerous and that he agreed with Skinn, they should just kill him. "Would you kill your own kin, then, Debitto?" He stilled, lips drawn down in a tight scowl.

"Then it's settled," the Millennium Earl said, rising from his seat. "Road will train Allen Walker-san in the ways of the Noah. The rest of you —" They all stood, chairs screeching on the floor, and Skinn relinquished his grip on Allen's chain. "—feel free to use my manufactured demons in your cause. Recover the Innocence with zeal!" And then they were gone.

"Wait!" Allen shot to his feet even though he knew all the Noah had left. "The Innocence—"

Road hopped onto his shoulders and the sudden weight almost made him collapse.

"They're gone, exorcist!" she sang, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "When you leave the House of the Earl, you leave to a whole different dimension."

But Allen had to stop them. It was his duty to protect and serve the Innocence. The Noah were just sent out to destroy it! This had been a stupid idea; he wasn't a  _Noah_. He had to get back to the Dark Order. He didn't care if they killed him for being half Noah or whatever he was, he would not stand quiet while Innocence was being captured.

 _I'm in the perfect position,_ he thought.  _I can stop them before they go out to recover the Innocence._ His Noah marks started to glow as he embraced his standing as the Fourteenth Noah. It was in his nature to betray the Clan, anyway. He focused on the throbbing in his head, searching for the endless tune that played in the back of his mind since he had become a Noah.

There!

In his mind's eye, his Noah powers looked like golden thread, the ancient music notes Mana had taught him glittering around it. He reached out, twining his fingers through the threads as gently as if he was caressing hair. Music coursed through him once again, although not with the same mind-numbing insanity as when he first changed. His skin bled into gray, then ash, and finally settled on a charcoal hue. Power swirled around him, and with his own Dark Matter, he could reject the magic in the chains that bound him.

With a popping noise, the bolts exploded and the cuffs flew off his hands. Now, to go after the rest of the Noah—

The same oppressive aura cut short his burst of power, smashing his resolve into the ground. Allen actually did fall, feeling like someone cut off his legs. Road stood over him imperiously with her boots planted on his back.

"Jeez, Allen," she whined, making a pouty face. "I was going to unlock your cuffs in a second. I just wanted a hug!" Her tone became serious, and a hollow growl echoed her words. "Listen, rookie," she ground out, the derisive nickname reminding him of Kanda when he first joined the Dark Order. "You follow  _our_  orders now. Not exorcists, not your silly Order, and not your own drastic whims." She stepped off of him, not bothering to help him to his feet. "As long as you have  _stigmata_ , you obey only two people. The Millennium Earl, and the First Noah."

"Stigmata?"

"Holy marks," she said, pointing to the band of crosses on her forehead. "They identify you as a holder for the memories of Noah." Like the cross on his hand marked him as a holder for Innocence.

"I am the Noah of Dreams, the First Noah. Without including you or me, there are twelve other Noah in the family, each representing a different memory of Noah. For all intents and purposes, we are royalty, Allen Walker, direct descendants of God's own apostle. Your Dark Order is nothing but a supremacist cult in comparison."

A part of him, probably an inborn Noah instinct, told him that she was right—that the Noah Clansmen were superior. But listening to her denounce the Dark Order, Allen found that the same arguments could be used against both organizations. They were all hypocrites.

"Now," she said, bringing her hands together in a decisive clap. "Skinn was right, a Noah will pretty much go insane if they don't bring their Memories under control." A heart-shaped door materialized behind him, and Road stalked towards him like a predator going in for the kill. He retreated backwards until his back hit the door, and Road stepped in close, running a dark finger along the hollow of his cheek. His Noah was still being suppressed, supposedly by the First Noah's powers, and he knew that as soon as she released him he would be blasted with the tumultuous clamor of his Memory. He hated this situation, hated the Earl, and hated the Noah, but...

He swallowed, and Road grinned like she already knew he lost. He needed to get stronger. Road saw his compromise, his conclusion, and reached over his shoulder to open the door.

"Time to train," she purred. And Allen willingly stepped through the doorway into Road's world—or as willing as you can be with said Noah herding you inside—to learn from the enemy, and betray all his allies.

* * *

Debitto strode through the halls in a rare moment unaccompanied by Jasdero. He had bagged an Innocence fragment that morning and was feeling quite good with himself, his earlier anger simmering down. He neared the end of the hall, approaching a heart-shaped door, structured to mimic the ones Road could create, and knocked. Road often took awhile to answer the door of her cavernous room, so Debitto wasn't surprised when there was no immediate answer.

He raked a hand through his ink black hair, checking his appearance in the mirror on the opposite wall. He wore his fur-lined jacket off-the-shoulder, exposing his chest and shoulders, which he liked to think made him look sexy. He turned his face in the mirror to make sure there were no blood spatters and ruffled his hair again to make it look fashionably unkempt, like Road's. Still no answer.

"Road?" He knocked again. Was she pissed at him? "Road, I'm sorry I bitched at you earlier, I just don't trust that exorcist."

No answer.

Debitto stifled the urge to take out his gun (a desperation reflex), which was holstered at his hip. "Road," he said as evenly as possible, though maybe a little whine crept into his voice. "You know I just want you to be safe, and that kid looked like he was about to snap. I know you're the First Noah and everything and can take care of yourself, but—"

"Debitto?"

He spun around to face Jasdero scratching his golden locks in confusion. "Why are you here? Are we moving into Road's room?" Debitto pulled at his jaw in exasperation.

"No, you idiot. Do you know where Road is?" He rested his hand on his gun, eying his twin askance.

"She's off in her dimension, I think," he said, picking at the stitching in his mouth. "Training the exorcist. Why do you ask? Are you in trouble? 'Cause, you know, if you're in trouble, that ultimately means  _I'm_  in trouble since we're basically the same person and all. And I think—"

"There's a reason I stitched your mouth up, Jasdero," Debitto growled. "Shut. Up."

Jasdero only twisted his head to the side and touched the stitches, as if he had forgotten they were there. Debitto marched back up the long hallway, beckoning his twin to follow. He didn't feel like talking to Road anyway, he thought, smoldering at the thought of her with that degraded Noah. Fine, let her train him. But one day, that runt exorcist was going to fuck up, and Debitto hoped he would be the one to cut the Fourteenth Noah from the Clan for good.

* * *

Allen wiped the sweat from his brow and panted, dragging in big gulpfuls of air like they were the last he would ever get.

Road's training was intense and reminiscent of his rehabilitation training with Fou at the Asian Branch. She had given him no instruction, just unleashing a barrage of dagger-like candles and disorienting illusions. All he had to do was survive. When Road was convinced he wouldn't die or become deranged, she released her hold on his Noah powers. The maelstrom of songs had nearly caused him to faint, but he held on just barely, in time to dodge a swift candle to his heart.

Over and over the attacks came, hardly a pause or hesitation in between. He was under strict instruction not to use his Innocence, and to instead harmonize with the bedlam in his head and learn to work with it and control it. When he stopped just staggering around her attacks and started strategically dodging and advancing towards her, she called a break. The music still pounded in his head, but he learned to tune out unnecessary notes and pitches, focusing only on the sounds relevant to what he was doing. The music raged in sync with his emotions, and if he had to name the particular rhythm, he would call it 'Adrenaline'.

"It's almost dinnertime," Road announced, looking at the huge grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It said it was almost 13 o'clock (apparently dinnertime), which Allen supposed was normal in this twisted dimension of hers.

"Do you think I'll be allowed to come?" He was pretty sure it had been over twenty-four hours since he last ate, and the lack of food was making him dizzy. He also hadn't used his Innocence in that time, which greatly attributed to his voracity, but he still needed nourishment—and lots of it.

"Sure, sure," she said, examining her nails. He had noticed, glumly, that Road had broken only the slightest sweat, giving her skin an ethereal dewy look. "As long as you be a good boy and not growl at Millennie, you'll be accepted readily enough. Though, you still have to sleep in your cell."

When the clock struck 13 o'clock, Road transported him back to the House of the Earl, the door opening into the dining room. All the Noah Clansmen were already seated, save Lulubell who drank a saucer of milk on the floor. They all ate like a normal family, arguing, discussing, and gossiping while they ate. The Earl wasn't there that night, and Allen dug his nails into his palm, knowing that wherever he was, he was causing death and pain.

He cast wary glances at his not-so-fellow Clansmen, namely Skinn, Jasdero, and Tyki, all of whom he had presumed dead or exorcised until now. Tyki was elegantly chewing through blood-red steak, listening to Road complaining about how she wanted candy for dinner and not blocks of dead cow. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and Allen tried to peek at his chest, searching for the Crown Clown crosses. He saw nothing, but maybe his shirt covered it up.

The music still surged through his head, sort of a resigned background sound, but it was making him dizzy and he wanted a break from his Noah powers. He centered himself, focusing on reverting back into his white form. Only he couldn't. He tried again and again, but he wouldn't revert back.

"Why...?" He looked at his hands, dark and unchanging. Tyki smirked knowingly, dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a cloth napkin, then gestured to himself and Road.

"The older Noah," he said. "Like me, Road, and Lulubell, we can change willingly to and from our white and black forms. Out of courtesy to the  _Hakushaku_ , we usually stay in our black forms when we're in the House of the Earl."

"Wait, so I'm stuck like this until I've been a Noah for a certain number of years?" He had to deal with the clamor in his mind for  _years_? He would go insane! Then again, he thought, grimacing, every Clansman here  _did_ seem a little off-kilter.

"Well, you need to reach a certain degree of maturity in your Noah form, obtained by either time or power."

They finished dinner, all of them scattering off to some place or another, leaving the dishes and mess for the demon servants on duty. As one of them took his arm to lead him back to his cell, Tyki intercepted them, sending a quick telepathic command to the servant.

_Go now._

It was eerie to hear it in his head, intermingled with the slight buzzing that signified the presence of the other Noah. Tyki hooked an arm around his shoulder, saying in a much cheerier voice, "Come with me!" Allen reminded himself that this was the person who stole him from his home and nearly choked the life out of him doing so. They walked back to the cell, Tyki chattering amiably, but as they reached the door, he bent down and whispered in his ear.

"I haven't forgotten the exorcism stunt you pulled back in the Arc," he hissed. "The only reason we can have a conversation now is because when you stabilized the Arc, you brought  _everyone_  back to life, not just your friends." So that was why he had his Noah powers. Tyki flashed a joker card from his coat pocket, tapping the corner menacingly. "Remember, you're still on my list."

The Joker that handed out assassination assignments was still moaning his name,  _Allen Walker! Allen Walker!_  It sent shivers down his spine, but he met the Noah's gaze defiantly. With a tip of his hat, Tyki wished him a good night and nudged him into the cell, turning the key and locking him in darkness.

...


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next couple of days, Allen structured a careful routine for himself, mindful of the status quo of his black form. He spent every morning meditating, sometimes under the impatient watch of Road constantly urging him to train with her, focusing on sorting the different notes and cadences of his Memory. Usually he could only separate a few at a time, either intense headaches or a fed-up Road cutting short his progress. But he was moving along, slowly and surely getting a grip on his powers.

Late mornings all the way into the evening were spent in Road's dimension, training in attack patterns and how to properly use Dark Matter. Without the hindrance of a Parasitic-type, Allen found that he was significantly less hungry, needing only breakfast and dinner—albeit in copious amounts. He thinned down, all hard, lean muscle and he found himself moving faster than ever before.

The Noah Clansmen still regarded him warily, Skinn and Jasdebi lashing out occasionally, but Tyki quelled their anger one day, at least to a certain degree.

"If he's such a weak and pathetic human," he said. "Why are you idiots so afraid he'll slit your throats while you're asleep?" And then they left him well enough alone, more out of defending their pride than actual understanding.

Road became a constant companion, showing up every morning at his cell and hugging him still his bones creaked after every meal. The only time he was out of company of the Noah Clansman was when he was escorted back to his cell under the careful watch of a mindless demon at the end of the day.

He found himself trying to imagine life back at the Dark Order, but all of the memories seemed blurred and he couldn't seem to think of anything other than the night of his capture. His Innocence arm functioned well enough, but nowadays it didn't seem any more important than his right arm. His mind was what mattered now.

"On your toes, Allen Walker!"

Huge, spiked candles erupted from the ground and he leapt away easily, only to be caught in one of Road's illusions. Everywhere he looked he saw four different Roads, all of them circled around him like funhouse mirrors come to life. He whistled sharply, a high A note, and the vision shattered to reveal Road coming in fast.

In hand-to-hand combat, Allen was definitely more skilled, but Road was ruthless and fought differently than the exorcists he usually sparred against. She conjured different weapons out of the air, shrieking joyously every time she managed to land a hit and a line of blood appeared on his worn shirt. His skin regenerated instantly, forming into smooth and unmarred again, but it never deterred Road. Sometimes he wondered if she fought close-quartered just for the sadistic pleasure of watching him bleed.

She was fast, faster than him, but in her fights she always had the advantage, always the predator, and never developed the fighting instincts of someone truly in danger.

At the end of the day, they always called a draw. It wasn't that they were evenly matched, but they balanced each other out-—Road's strength in Dark Matter, and his in fighting technique and quick reflexes. But gradually Allen started to gain insight on how advantageous Dark Matter really was, using it more often during fights.

Soft, on-key notes usually helped him defend and guard, while sharps and flats were used on the offensive and when attacking. Humming or whistling the notes sparked immediate results, while singing the notes magnified its strength but tended to use more air and energy.

Road was also improving from the training, making each session just as life-threatening as the last.

"Too slow!" Road yowled, scraping his cheek with the edge of her nails. She retreated unexpectedly, and only then did Allen notice a horde of candles poised overhead. They struck from all angles like an inverted nail bomb and he rushed to defend himself.

He sang an ascending chord (C, D#, F) and most of the candles crumbled or lost their momentum. He dashed towards Road again, catching a falling candle midair, and aimed the sharp tip at her chest. She dodged and circled around him, irritatingly fast, until she became a circuitous blur.

He flipped the candle in his hands, trying to decide the best direction to strike, when he noticed a mist clouded the corner of his eye. This was an illusion!

Frantically he whistled another string of notes, but nothing changed. His hand was starting to burn, and with a start he realized the candle was melting, turning his hand into an amorphous blob of wax. He shook his hand to dislodge the wax and sang sharp, keening notes to shatter the illusion, but it had no effect. Road was still circling him, too fast to see clearly.

Everything else started to melt with the candle. The presents in the corners and the stuffed animals on the tables. The walls started to droop inward and everything felt hot. His hands were melting, his skin was melting, and the whole room was collapsing and burning. Road was still spinning. Spinning and spinning and spinning. No, this was an illusion. He had to reject it with Dark Matter. But the smoke choked him and his voice stuck in his throat. Her magic was too strong.

Spinning and spinning. No. Stop.  _Make it stop_.

He was alone. He would die in this nightmare world. Everything was on fire now, burning and consuming. His careful control over his Memory slipped, and he was engulfed in the pandemonium of songs. A flat, G sharp, D, B, E, guitar, piano, trumpets, hymns, lullabies, waltzes, opera, duets, chorus, anthems, ballads, chants—

Road's face filled his vision, her wide, indigo—not yellow—eyes staring at his.

There was no fire, her room was intact, and he was still living, still breathing. There was quiet in his head. Silence. He stared questioningly at Road.

Her skin was unnaturally pale compared to her black form. She was staring intently, gazing into his eyes. Wait, no...staring at his forehead?

"I can't believe it," she whispered.

He blinked. What?

"You changed back," she said, gaping. "You reached maturity."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Allen, look!" She held up his hand.

It was pale.

* * *

" _What_?! He reached 100% synchronization with his Memory? How?" Tyki almost spat out his wine.

"Yes, it is rather extraordinary," the Earl said. Tyki wondered if the Earl was actually pleased or not, but his ever-present grin gave nothing away.

"How did he do it?" he asked again.

"Road said he changed back to his white form during one of her illusions. Maybe the stress triggered the maturity?" Tyki raised a hand to his lips.

"You realize what this means?" Tyki glanced at the Millennium Earl again. "Allen Walker is the first Noah to reach maturity through procurement of power, not age."

"He has become quite powerful, yes."

"Is he stronger than Road? Is this according to  _plan?_  I understand that having one of your pawns gain more power is a good thing, but this is  _Allen Walker._  Do you expect someone who hates you to follow your orders?" The Earl turned his head and his glasses lost its reflective sheen, allowing Tyki to see eyes cold and hard as steel.

"Will  _you_  follow my orders, Tyki Mikk?" Tyki swallowed. "Allen Walker is a Noah Clansman, therefore he belongs to me. By my right, he owes his complete obedience. Do you understand?" Tyki twisted his lips into a sort of half grin, half grimace.

"Yes,  _Hakushaku_ , I suppose I do."

"Allen!" Road jumped onto his back for the fourth time that night, shrieking about how she was so proud of him and how awesome it was that he was in league with the older Noah and how—He tried to tune her out.

His reception as a matured Noah was varied, ranging from (understandably) shocked to envious and, in Debitto's case, thoroughly enraged. When Road had opened the door from her dimension back into the House of the Earl, everyone was already seated around the table, the Earl, as always, at its head.

"It seems you've achieved complete synchronization, Allen Walker." The Millennium Earl eyed him from head to toe, like he was staring down a cockroach that just wouldn't die. Allen narrowed his eyes and mumbled a terse 'Ah', like it was no big deal.

Truly, though, it was bliss to have complete silence in his head, even if it was only for a little while. It was certainly relaxing, but Allen couldn't help but notice a slight unease in his mind, like it was nagging and lecturing him for not garnering complete control. He shrugged it off. He had synchronized, hadn't he? He was obviously doing everything right.

The Earl whispered a few words to Tyki and then bid them all goodnight, dragging Lero away with the parting words, " _I feel some misery brewing. Time to create more beautiful demons!_ "

After dinner Jasdebi cornered Road, moaning and complaining and, 'why didn't you train us?' 'where's  _our_ Noah training?' Skinn rolled his eyes, or at least Allen thought he did, it was hard to tell when he had no pupil to roll.

For once, Lulubell was not in her cat form, and her blond hair swished hypnotically as she sauntered over to Tyki. She bent towards him, as if to whisper, but really Allen could hear her just fine.

"Do you think he's ready for reconnaissance?" Tyki nodded gravely.

"That's what the Earl said. He's even ready to start harvesting."

"Is that so?" Ironically, Lulubell's dispassionate tone made Allen more worried than Tyki's urgent one. What was going on?

Tyki noticed his gaze and his eyes flared for a second, but then he just smiled and raised his fingers in a mock salute. Allen stared hard into Tyki's eyes, trying to read him. He didn't break his gaze until Road pinched his cheek, chiding him for not paying attention.

"Allen!" It was a childish whine, but somehow Road could pull it off, and he wasn't annoyed.

" _Hai, hai, gomenasai_ ," he swept his hair of the back of his neck, still sweaty from training. Road watched every movement and then beamed at him when he met her eyes.

"Eh? Allen can speak Japanese?" She hopped on her toes, and before Allen could stop her, she jumped on him again, hanging her arms around his neck. "Allen's the coolest!" A snort behind him made Allen turn his head, but he couldn't tell if it had been Jasdero, Debitto, or Skinn, and by the time he turned back to Road, Tyki and Lulubell were gone.

Allen swallowed, trying his best to pay attention to Road's endless digressions, but he couldn't suppress the shudder of unease that went through him.

What was the Earl planning?

...


	4. Chapter 4

A week later Tyki captured four Innocence fragments.

It was almost unheard of, on level with defeating a Marshall. But Tyki had tracked a relatively new platoon of exorcists, none experienced, and had Tease devour them in their sleep. He flashed the Innocence fragments at dinner, holding them between his fingers like cigarettes for the Earl to see. The Earl hummed appraisingly, lifting his spectacles to gaze at the hated Innocence.

"Very good," he said, and then with a quick nod to Tyki, he crushed a fragment in his palm. Allen was out of his seat before the Earl was finished destroying it, fully in his black form and marching up to the Earl before the dust finished settling to the ground.

"Stop!" The Earl just chuckled at him, grabbing another fragment and watching it disintegrate between his fingers. Skinn wrestled him to the ground, and the contact with the Noah of Wrath made him feel a spark of raw hate. Jasdebi joined in, twisting his arms behind his back and trying to subdue his exorcist strength. Contact with them heightened the sense of bonds he had with the Innocence, and it hurt all the more to see the fragments destroyed one by one.

His mind was filled with dirges and grim hymns, and he remembered that he was a Noah, just like them, and stopped trying to use his exorcist strengths.

Calling out to the demons in the House, he roared an order— _Attack the Millennium Earl!_ The force of his command was nearly in league with the First Noah herself, and the demons scrambled to obey. Just as he was completely covered by a cloud of demons, the Earl spoke a single order in his mind, the grin on his face just a bit wider:  _Disappear_.

One by one, every demon summoned in the House of the Earl self-destructed, Allen watching in horror as all those souls lost any chance of salvation.

"No!" he pleaded, nails scrabbling against the floor.

"Shut up!" Skinn drove his elbow into Allen's spine. Road sat quietly, unsmiling and unmoving. Tyki just looked amused, brushing the sand-like debris from his gloves and giving the Earl a pointed look. The Earl nodded, flashed Road a conspiratory grin, and quirked his head towards Allen.

" _Hai, Hakushaku_ ," she intoned in careful Japanese. Allen thought her voice sounded dark and strangely much older when she spoke in the Earl's language. Maybe it was just because she seemed so serious. The Earl tipped his hat with the tip of Lero and exited out to the Arc.

Suddenly Debitto flipped him over, straddling him, and dealt a vicious punch to Allen's face. Blood exploded in the back of his throat and Debitto kept raining down blows. Allen's exorcist training kept him from getting hit anywhere critical but Debitto didn't seem to care, pummeling his arms and chest.

"You screwed up  _big time_ , rookie," he sneered. "Dumbass exorcist. You think you're tough shit since you gained maturity? You attacked the Millennium Earl! You are so _fucked_. And you know what? I'm gonna—"

"Debitto." Road's voice was soft and carefully controlled. Debitto opened his mouth to protest, but dropped his hands went she sent him an illusion. Allen didn't know what she showed him, but Debitto's eyes went wide and he pressed his lips tightly together.

 _Leave._ The First Noah's voice rang in every Clansman's head.

"Understood," Tyki said. The other Noah repeated the response, just a beat behind.

All at once they left the room, leaving Road and Allen alone. He narrowed his eyes at her, wiping a streak of blood from the corner of his mouth. Was she going to lecture him? Yell at him? Beat him up? She only stared with hard, unblinking eyes, and Allen steadily became more and more uncomfortable.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asked, more as a challenge than out of fear. She knelt in front of him and rested her hands on his knees. Allen remembered when she first captured him in her dimension, how she mauled herself with his Innocence and how she regenerated immediately. But he also remembered what she looked like underneath her skin. Dark and twisted and ugly.

She leaned over his chest, and when their lips were just inches apart, she opened her jacket and pulled out an Innocence fragment. He didn't dare make a move to grab it, instead staring at the molten gold of her eyes. She dangled it in front of his face, right between his eyes.

"This, Allen Walker, is Innocence," she said, twirling it in her fingers. "It adapts to certain humans, marking them as exorcists. It is susceptible to Dark Matter, the Noah's magic, just as Dark Matter is susceptible to Innocence. It fuels your Dark Order, drives you to exorcise demons like our Noah instincts drive us to kill you exorcists. I  _hate_ Innocence." She pressed her thumb and forefinger together and crushed the fragment, the glowing green dust scattering over his chest.

She grabbed his collar, pulling him up to eye-level.

"You think you're on middle ground? That you can just be half Noah, half exorcist?  _This is not a truce_. You are not free to skip over the line whenever you like, choose to be a Noah one day and an exorcist the next. I have no qualms destroying your Innocence right here and now." She seized his wrist with enough force to snap it. Allen didn't make a sound.

She leaned forward and touched her cheek against his, lips right above his ear. "You are a Noah. Not an exorcist, not a savior, not the Crowned Clown. You are the disgraced and diminished Fourteenth that has finally been beaten into submission. Your memories have already started to fade since your birth as a Noah, and one day you wont remember what your life was before you gained your  _stigmata_." She pulled away abruptly, the swiftness of her retreat ruffling his hair.

She stalked out, giving him a final telepathic order that he found himself unable to defy.

_Go back to your cell._

* * *

She was right, he realized with sinking dread.

He had assumed his time in the House of the Earl was just high stress and overshadowed his memories of the Dark Order. But since he became a Noah...

He knew that the Dark Order was composed of exorcists and Finders, and all of them were sent to search and preserve Innocence fragments as well as locate Innocence adapters. He knew that he was the owner of the Point Breaker Innocence, Crown Clown and that he thrived on saving demons' souls. He just couldn't  _remember_.

He no longer recalled the surge of power that came every time he released the Crown Clown or the ecstasy of laying a pitiful demon to rest. He couldn't form solid memories of his friends at the Order; his annoyance at Kanda, his friendship with Lavi, and his attachment and companionship with Lenalee. He couldn't even remember the night he was captured, other than knowing Tyki had taken him.

 _Damn it!_  He dug his fingers into the rough stone of his cell. It was horribly cliché, having a dungeon in the basement, but Allen supposed that the Millennium Earl was a bit of a cliché himself. The whole House was one big fortress, like a medieval castle. Not that he could complain—after all, the Dark Order was like Rapunzel's tower on steroids.

He sighed, holding his head in his hands. He was almost surprised when his fingers found the ridge of the scar on his face. It had been practically invisible in his black form.

He let the back of his head crack against the wall behind him. He was even forgetting he had a freaking curse mark.  _  
_

 _Oh, Mana,_  he thought.  _There's always been a clear path for me to take. Why is it now that everything is in darkness?_

* * *

Allen woke, as always, in his cold and slightly damp cell.  _What a loving family_ , he thought wryly. At least they didn't chain him up anymore. A knock at his door didn't quite manage to surprise him—the Noah had an uncanny ability of entering his cell right as he was waking. The timing was so impeccable it was scary. He could faintly hear voices through the door as he called, "Come in!"

" _Why the hell did you knock, idiot?_ "

" _That's what you're supposed to do when you enter someone's room, asshat._ "

" _He's in a_ dungeon  _for fuck's sake. Just open the door, Jasdero._ "

With a startling crack, Jasdero's booted foot came through the door, and Allen winced at the harrying noise of wood ripping. Jasdero's head poked through the stellate tear in the door, antenna bobbing and eyes rolling.

"Let's go, student!" Jasdero and Debitto yelled in unison. "You may want to change into your black form." Allen blinked. Only Road had ever visited his room, without counting Tyki's one-time drop off. And if Allen ever expected another Noah to visit him, the last people/person he would imagine—especially after last night—would be the indignant Jasdebi. And did they say  _student_?

Technically, according to the complex hierarchy of the Noah Clan, Allen was one step above the twins, at least power-wise. But they were older, and their Memory number (they were the Ninth Noah) was higher than his. He switched to his black form, slightly apprehensive, and was surprised by both the speed of his transformation and the intensity of the headache that came with it. It was a sharp pain, more so because it was unexpected.

Synchronization should have made his mind less volatile, and indeed the music was quieter—just a tiny sound accompanied by the buzzing of the Noah signature—but he would have thought the headaches would stop. Maybe he needed to meditate more.

Jasdebi led him through the maze of hallways in the House of the Earl, a path he hadn't taken before. Allen found himself noticing how mismatched the twins were. Debitto walked with his hips, like a surly model, hands buried in his jacket pockets, while Jasdero walked like a hunchback, as if the weight of his head (or his antenna) was too much. Completely different, yet they still matched each other stride for stride.

"Where are you taking me?" Neither of them responded, but he felt them smirking as surely as if they had spoken aloud. They loped along the tiles, each of them walking in their respective styles, headed towards a familiar transporter. It wasn't as familiar by sight, so much as familiar by instinct. The Arc portal. He remembered the hidden room, the Fourteenth's room, which he used to control the Arc just under a year ago.

"Why are we going into the Arc?" They waved their hands dismissively but answered anyway.

"We're going harvesting—" they said.

 _Harvesting_. That's what Tyki was talking about last night.

"—and we're bringing you along. You learn fast don't you, mature Fourteenth Noah-san?" Allen ignored the dig, still perturbed by their synchronous answers.

As soon as they entered the Arc, Debitto rushed out, sprinting forward like a cat. Jasdebi accelerated too, holding out his arms and spluttering like he was an airplane. Matching stride for stride. Allen, momentarily shocked by their sudden haste, raced after them. If they thought they could outrun him by catching him by surprise, they were quickly disappointed.

His gait was long and energetic—it felt good to use his fighter's muscles after focusing so much energy on Dark Matter—and he quickly caught up. He could have passed them, but he didn't know his way around this Arc, and trailing behind them, they soon reached a white-washed door—evidently a portal to the outside world. The door opened, a roiling swirl of purple akin to the entrances to Road's dimension.

"Wait," Allen said, backing up. The last time he stepped through one of these doors, he almost fell into a bottomless pit. "What's harvesting?" Jasdebi just laughed and shoved him forward (actually, Jasdero kicked him), and he was flung through the door, smacking the ground much too far below. He groaned and sat up, opening his eyes to look at the world he was stolen from.

The first thing he noticed was the grass. His spat a few blades out of his mouth. All around him it was sunny, brighter than the artificial light of the Arc, doubly so compared to the perpetual darkness of the House of the Earl.

The second thing he noticed was a coat, folded up on the ground. It was sturdy—thick to protect against rain, and reinforced with armor sewn inside. Black embroidered in red, and a crest that glinted in the blinding sun Allen was now so unused to.

Jasdebi hit the ground behind him and he heard the sinister click of their guns being loaded.

"Jasdebi..." It was the first time he said their name. He was looking into the face of a man, frozen in the act of bending down to pick up the coat, just out of reach. "What's harvesting?" he asked again.

The man's face, at first shocked to see people seemingly fall out of the sky, had a look of horror etched into it that Allen was sure mirrored his own. The man mouthed the word, too scared to whisper it:  _Noah_.

Allen stared back, eyes now full of anguish. This man had only the Beginner's crest, he probably hadn't even fully synchronized—no match for three Noah.

Jasdebi howled, a war-cry that spurred a deep instinct within him, urging him to fight, to kill, to take.  _Harvesting._

Allen mouthed a word, as if in apology:  _Exorcist_.

"EXORCIST!" Jasdebi cried, cocking their guns and shooting twin Materialized bullets. The battle was pathetically short, a one-hit kill, and the Innocence fragment bounced on the folded up coat, now blood-spattered and out of reach forever.

Debitto raised his booted foot and stomped down, shattering the fragment. He twisted his foot the way Tyki ground out cigarettes, smashing the green dust into bloodied coat.

Allen dug his hands into the grass. So this is what the Earl had planned for him—a life as a full-fledged Noah Clansman, complete with duties of exterminating exorcists and harvesting Innocence fragments. He should have expected no less.

_Harvesting._

If only he had known.

Four hours and thirteen Arc doors later, they finally found another Innocence fragment.

The doors, Allen realized, only led to strategically placed openings in the world, and not to the ever-changing locations of Innocence. His relief was short-lived, however, because following the twins out of necessity for hours and listening to them complain about Innocence—or lack thereof—was a grueling task, and his headache wasn't getting any better. As much as it sucked to be a third wheel in this 'mission', he was at least glad that he wasn't forced to witness an exorcist slaying again.

Until door number thirteen.

They came out of nowhere, at least to the platoon of exorcists, like nightmares conjured from the darkness. Four exorcists and two Finders. Allen didn't know any of them, and in his ashen form, he didn't think they recognized him either.

Jasdebi called to the surrounding demons, and like insects they rose, a swarm of Level Ones. The Finders and the two younger exorcists panicked, spinning around frantically trying to see all the enemies at once. The more experienced exorcists had eyes only for the three Noah that stood before them.

They had heard reports of the twins—one blond, one black-haired—and stories of their manic slaying of exorcists around the world. The third Noah they didn't recognize. No one had said anything about a Clansman with white hair.

Jasdebi shot forward like bullets from their guns. Debitto loaded his gun with a jerk of his wrist and fired a water-type bullet that smashed into an exorcist with enough force to break bone. Jasdero flew through the air, and in an elaborate spin, dealt a savage kick to another exorcist's skull. Cries of, "Innocence, activate!" reverberated through the air and sent Allen spiraling into nostalgia.

His own Innocence pulsed, awakening from its long sleep. His eye activated and he couldn't help but see the souls within all the demons they had summoned. The once quiet street plunged into chaos, and only Allen stayed out of the battle. How could he fight? There was no way he could harm an exorcist, what he was—or used to be. But how could he betray what he was now?

His Innocence powers were Marshall-level, but that didn't work against exorcists. He bounced on his toes. Should he join the battle? Who would he fight, the exorcists or the Noah? A memory surfaced in his mind. Road facing him, eyes hard as diamonds and just as cold.

_You are a Noah. Not an exorcist, not a savior, not the Crowned Clown.  
_

"Quit drooling, rookie!" Debitto sneered, blocking an exorcist's daggers with the barrel of his gun. Jasdero told him to get his head out of his ass before an explosion sent him flying. Terror seized him. He had to choose. Either way he was betraying someone.

_You are a Noah.  
_

Jasdebi finally imposed their will on him, and though it wasn't as powerful as the First Noah's, it compelled him to join the fight. The Ninth Noah's voice was young and childish, overly bright like the voice of the Level Four.  _Fight with us, Fourteenth._

He jumped from the edge of the street into the throng of bodies engaged in life-or-death battles.

An exorcist lunged at him, a senior member according to his crest, reached out as if to grab him, and called: "Innocence: ignite!" He barely dodged the plume of flames that erupted from the exorcist's bracelet. An Equipment-type.

He blocked all the exorcist's attacks, dodging and circling. He was distracted, what if someone recognized him? But the attacks were slow and world-weary, Allen expected the exorcist had already fought throughout most of the day. Compared to Road, dodging them was easy.

Allen could see rage building up behind the exorcist's eyes as he increased his speed, adding new fervor to his attacks. This exorcist had everything to lose and was driven by the promise of justice. Burns accumulated on Allen's arms when he was too slow, but his skin regenerated over the oozing black marks, forming back into a smooth sheet of gray. Explosions shook the earth; the demon bullets were hazardous to everyone.

The Finders captured as many as they could in a stasis spell. Their moans shook the Innocence-reinforced glass and their eyes rolled back in their head. Without realizing, Allen sang out to them, freeing them subconsciously. One of them shot a Finder, and his skin became riddled with the telltale black stars until he crumpled, dust and sand.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

His mind was at war with his body, and right now the Noah in him ran rampant. The exorcist rushed in past his guard and fire burst in his face. His skin healed, but not before the exorcist lunged again. And again, and again. Allen was hindered by his reluctance to actually fight, and it was costing him the battle. His Innocence was shaking now, twitching and convulsing, warning signs that Allen was in  _dangerdangerdanger._ It took almost all of his willpower not to release his Innocence, and then he lost control over his Memory again.

Notes burst from his lips. The air rang with whistled notes and chords and the exorcist fighting him clapped his hands over his ears.

Demons swarmed to Allen, drawn by the music. Right before his eyes, they started evolving—changing from Level Ones to Level Twos. Was it because of him? The exorcist's Innocence shuddered and hissed, repulsed by the powers of the Noah of Music. He couldn't clamp his mouth shut, though, and to his horror he just sang louder and louder.

The pressure in his skull was unbearable now, without the redeeming cacophony of music. It seemed that ever since his maturity, his head was mostly silent, the music instead flowing out into the world until it was audible to everyone around.

"What are you?" The exorcist looked at him like he was the bile of the Earth. And, he realized, he really was. Black skin, white hair, one red eye—he was a monster.

 _I don't want to do this!_  he wanted to scream. He never asked for this, he was never supposed to have the Memory of the Fourteenth Noah. He was an exorcist! With a final jerk, he lost control over his Innocence.

Black claws erupted from his finger tips. The Crown Clown, in all its white-glowing cynic glory, flowed down his back. Immediately the headache ceased, the song dying in his throat. Maybe he could do this. Turn against Jasdebi and escape back home.

He activated the Crown Clown, pulling his left arm from his socket into a sword, and—

 _No_.

A jolt of unfamiliarity hit him and he almost dropped the sword, so wrong in its essence and appearance. This was the Earl's sword, not the Crown Clown. It was some inversion of his Innocence, deep navy instead of white. The platoon of exorcists balked; they recognized the sword.

"A-are you the Millennium Earl?" Surely the description didn't match up, but the sword was like a wake-up call. They had been outnumbered, and now, far outclassed. Allen stood with his arm shaking, wanting to toss the godforsaken sword to the ground because it wasn't  _his_ , but he couldn't. It was getting harder to separate the Noah's will from his own.

A loud cackle met his ears, informing him that Jasdero killed his target. The other Finder lay dead on the ground. The senior exorcist he had been fighting stared at him, sense telling him to retreat, but duty urging him forward. Allen stood rooted to the ground.

The exorcist took a step backwards.

The sword lurched forward, dragging Allen behind like a puppet, and before he could stop it, it was embedded in the exorcist's belly up to the hilt. He wanted to take it all away, fling the sword away and erase time, heal him like Miranda's Timescape, but he found himself thrusting the sword in deeper. The exorcist gurgled, drooling blood. And then he died, still skewered to the inverted Crown Clown. He hadn't said anything, no last words or taunts or promises.

The body slid off the sword and hit the ground in a nauseating tumble, the limbs jangling and spraddled like all the bones had melted. Satisfied huffs came from Jasdero and Debitto, signals that they were done with their fights.

Half of the Level Ones had been wiped out. All of the Level Twos were still intact.

Was it really over? They had only captured one Innocence fragment—Debitto's catch—and two Finders lay dead next to the mutilated corpses of Allen and Debitto's kills. Only two exorcists survived, retreated somewhere, probably a Finder's hideout.

Allen felt like he was going to be sick. And then he was on his hands and knees, vomiting a stream of blood ("The Noah don't digest the way humans do," Road later told him) onto the ground, splattering the bodies on the trampled-down grass.

Neither Jasdero or Debitto laughed, only scratching their heads and scowling in disdain.

"Is that all you can do?" Debitto seemed more disappointed than malicious. "Sing pretty songs? Shit, I guess maturity ain't all that it's cracked up to be." Jasdero nodded erratically, energized from the high of carnage.

"I didn't want to fight," he wretched. He wasn't sure why he felt he needed to defend himself.

"You better get used to it!" Jasdero sang. Debitto smirked in agreement, finishing his twin's sentence.

"Because you're going to be doing this every day, for the rest of your life." Debitto tilted his face up and shadows raked down his cheeks, accentuating his dramatic makeup. "And when you're a Noah, that's a long-ass time."

...


	5. Chapter 5

The exorcist rushed through the field, grass whipping at his legs and urging him to go faster. He was panting, hyperventilating, wheezing—whichever it was he wasn't getting enough air, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't even entertain the idea of slowing down. Not until he was sure that  _they_  wouldn't come after him.

He realized he should be ashamed of himself, running away like this. He couldn't even glorify it and call it a retreat. No, he was fleeing. He tried to block out images of Nagato, speared on the end of the Millennium Earl's sword like a piece of meat. It hadn't been his first glimpse of death—not even close. But it was his first encounter with the Noah Clansmen, and he knew now that all the stories were true. Ruthless, sadistic, and terrifyingly strong. He ran faster.

It was getting harder to move his legs, the muscles cramping. It felt like they were filling up with lead. A slight burning sensation ran down his back, and he knew without having to look that the wound across his shoulder was festering and oozing. He counted himself lucky. He knew that the black-haired Noah's intention had been to shoot off his arm, and only shoving his Innocenced dagger through the Noah's forearm at the last moment saved him.

Jason collapsed somewhere behind him, the frantic pants slowing and deepening. He didn't want to stop, not until he got to the Finder's base in the East. But Jason was still a new exorcist, just recruited five months ago. He eased his pace and turned, secretly glad for an excuse to rest. The Beginner exorcist lay in the grass, and he flinched when he saw the gash on Jason's forehead. If he didn't staunch the flow and put pressure on the wound, this kid would bleed out within minutes.

He ripped his coat off, folded it, and pressed it to the exorcist's forehead. A quick 360 degree lookaround and he knew that no one was following them. He realized Markus wasn't with them, and felt sick dread in his stomach. The man was probably dead. He returned his attention back to Jason.

Had to focus on the living now. Death was just an occupational hazard, one an exorcist learned to deal with early on.

Static crackled through the air, making him jump. He remembered, belatedly, that Nagato's golem was still with them, blaring white noise.

"— _your position. I repeat...port your position. Come in...Naga...report your..._ " He seized the transmitter golem, twisting the dials and setting coordinates.

"This is Lucas, I repeat, this is Lucas. I'm in Dahlem, in Lower Saxony. Fifty-three point two degrees North, Ten point seven-five degrees East. We're four men down, I repeat, four men down. Two Finders, two exorcists. Jason and I, me, Lucas, we're injured bad. Please direct us to the nearest base." He waited, wishing, pleading the transmit got through. The golem crackled again.

" _We're sending you the coordinates. What happened? Who has died?_ " He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Markus and Nagato, sir. And two Finders, sir, I don't recall their names. We were ambushed by Noah Clansman. Three of them." He could almost hear the surprise over the static, evident in the pause that ensued.

" _...Three Noah Clansman? Hold on...Captain Reever! There's an exorcist in Dahlem. Ran into three Noah._ " More static. Then Reever's voice came through the golem, clear and authoritative.

" _Exorcist_ — _Lucas is it? Please, describe the Noah you ran into._ "

"They were all dark-skinned," he said. "With crosses across their foreheads and—" Reever cut him off.

" _Yes, yes, but did you recognize them? Did they say anything?_ " He searched his mind, trying to muster up some description other than how utterly petrifying they were.

"There were three of them, Captain. Sorry, you knew that. The one I fought was dark-haired. Lots of makeup. He had a gun that could shoot without being reloaded. The other one was like him too, had the same gun. But he was blond. His mouth was closed up with stitches. Really gross, actually."

" _That would be Jasdebi, the twins,_ " Reever murmured. " _And what about the third? Was it a woman or a man?_ "

"A man, Captain. Though more like a kid. White hair. Scary voice. Had the Millennium Earl's sword. It was really weird. It started out with just his arm, but he like, pulled it out."

A long pause. "Captain Reever?"

" _There's no information on a Noah with white hair. Could you be mistaken? And you're sure it was a man?_ "

"Yes. A boy, Captain. White hair and a scary scream. I still hear the ringing in my ears."

" _Very well. We'll do some research here. Thank you, Lucas...Supervisor! Look in the archives about all the Noah. See if any of them have white hair...Thanks again, Lucas. The nearest Finder base is at fifty-three point two degrees North, twelve degrees East. Check in with us when you get there._ "

"Yes, Captain." The golem fell silent, flapping its wings mechanically. Jason was unconscious, but the bleeding had stopped. He gathered the exorcist in his arms, hoisting himself and the kid off the ground and ignoring the searing pain that shot up his shoulder.

He glanced around quickly, sweeping his gaze across the field around him, and ran. As fast as his legs would take him. He didn't stop until he saw Finders streaming out from the base in Ahrmühle, and collapsed, darkness rushing up to greet him.

* * *

— _Six weeks later_ —

Allen whirled around, a blur of soft white and harsh metallic, to lock swords—or in his case, his arm—with the exorcist across from him. Another senior exorcist, Allen noted. They spun, retreated, and clashed again. The exorcist gripped the sword with two hands, pinpointing his full strength into the razorsharp blade. It grated along the interlocking plates of his Innocence arm, and he considered telling the man who he was, just to see what kind of reaction it would get.

The hilt of the sword glowed green and Allen's eyes flashed. The man was about to fully activate it. He wasn't feeling up to wasting time or energy, so he let his tainted Innocence run wild, black claws tearing through the fabric of his glove. He grabbed the Innocenced sword with his other hand to divert the attack, indifferent when the blade sliced through his charcoal flesh, and plunged his black claws into the exorcist.

He retracted them immediately; he wasn't about to get  _another_  of his shirts stained with blood. With a strangled gasp, the man clad in black and red dropped, now a bit more red than black.

An itch ran along the back of his hairline, and recognizing the sudden danger he was in, he spun around to meet an exorcist's surprise attack. There wasn't enough time to block, the man was nearly on top of him, and he activated the inverted Crown Clown and swung it in an arc around him.

The Earl's Sword sliced through the nameless exorcist easily. Two halves of a body dropped on either side of him. Almost too easy, he thought grimly, re-sheathing his inverted Innocence. It was unnecessary, like using a scalpel to cut through butter.

He shifted his arm back to its deactivated state, now thoroughly coated in blood. He tried shaking the blood from the hard contours of his left arm, but it was too hot, too sticky. The dichotomized corpse abandoned its Equiment-type Innocence, and the fragment, small and glittering, rolled to his feet.

The other exorcist was incapacitated, slowly bleeding out from the deep punctures in his stomach.

"Are you going to kill him?" A luscious voice at his ear almost made him shiver. But Allen wasn't entranced by the Noah of Lust.

"No," he replied curtly. Lulubell pursed her lips.

"He's suffering more if he's alive," she said.

Allen turned sharply on his heel, pulling the glove over his bloody hand. He wasn't going to budge. With a shrug, Lulubell knelt next to the dying exorcist and, without reluctance or delay, broke his neck.

A part of Allen's shattered heart stirred, mourning the loss of two lives, but quickly turned detached once more. It was the only way he knew how to cope with the constant death toll. He tried not to kill if he didn't have to, but his Noah will was impulsive and unpredictable. If Allen was in danger, his body took over and he killed. Apathy was his only refuge. He killed with indifference and disregard, and harvested with loathing.

"Good job," Lulubell praised, surveying the damage around them. "You got two fragments today." Allen remained impassive as he re-opened the door to the Arc, leaving the fragments in the grass. He wanted to take a bath. It had become routine, these past weeks. Reconnaissance, harvesting, and exterminating in the mornings. Bathe, eat, sleep at night.

Lulubell gathered the fragments with a sigh, adding them to her own harvested fragment. It disgusted him, being a bystander in the destruction of Innocence, but at least Lulubell was professional about it. Jasdebi usually taunted and ridiculed him. He joined them almost every day for the morning harvest, the Earl not trusting him on his own (for good reason). Last time he was sent on a solo-mission, he left all the exorcists half-alive, Innocence intact. Since then, he was always accompanied by the Noah of Bonds, or occasionally Lulubell.

The Noah Clan assembled as usual in the dining room, seated according to Memory order. The odd-man out, Allen sat at the head of the table, opposite the Earl and also the farthest from. The Fourteenth's seat was rebellious in itself, seemingly a challenge of the Earl's authority.

"I assume your morning went well?" The Earl asked. The question was directed at Lulubell, but his gaze was set on Allen. He returned the glare, defiance thick in the air between them.

"Yes, he acquired two fragments this morning," Lulubell recited, like a teacher's pet.

"Is he still using his Innocence?" Lulubell nodded, pushing her sunglasses up the perfect bridge of her nose.

"His Innocence still appears inverted, but only in his Noah form. It seems to work against exorcists just fine. In fact he killed two today. He hesitates to use his Memory powers, and I suspect he buries them deep in his mind, only allowing them to rise when he gets particularly emotional." Lulubell remained enviously dispassionate. "But I can only assume. I don't fight with him often." Allen pushed back his chair abruptly. He'd had enough of this.

"I'll take my leave." Road shot him a warning look, but the Earl nodded his assent. He curled his lip.  _As if he had asked permission_.

He bowed acquiescingly, adjusted his shirt-tie, and strode out of the room. Silence hung in the room. The Noah Clan had long since gotten used to Allen's heartless, slightly numb attitude, figuring he had been broken and tamed. But his show of audacity surprised and infuriated them all.

"Well, this is a problem," Tyki muttered. The Earl only laughed, a sort of hysteria that rumbled through his chest.

"Sometimes, I really,  _really_ wish I killed Allen Walker all those years ago."

* * *

Weeks passed and Allen still refused to destroy the Innocence he captured. Even under the crushing influence and will of the First Noah, he wouldn't do it. The Millennium Earl said it didn't matter, after all, the Innocence was still getting destroyed, who cared who did it? But as the weeks bled into months, the Earl gradually became more impatient, until finally, he was completely incensed.

Allen had stolen Innocence from three exorcists the previous day, but conveniently 'misplaced' them, all of them knowing he had left them near the exorcists. He only brought back one fragment, stolen off an exorcist killed by Skinn. When the Earl demanded he destroy it, Allen shook his head silently, two quick jerks to the side, like a stubborn child. It was the norm these days, and Tyki walked towards him per usual, preparing to destroy the fragments instead, when the Earl snapped.

It was the first time Allen saw the Earl stop smiling, gnashing his enormous teeth in a disconcerting snarl. It was gone in a second, twisting upward into a wild grin, but it was enough to distress Allen. He feared he really had gone too far and he remembered Road twisting his wrist, saying,  _I have no qualms destroying your Innocence._

"You've become quite the snobbish one, Fourteenth Noah." There was a dangerous lilt to the Earl's voice, like he already had a punishment in mind.

Road hopped off her chair suddenly, and without warning, rammed the end of Lero into his skull.

"Let's go, Allen," she said cheerily. "I've gotten kinda sick of your high-and-mighty attitude, and Millennie wants you punished." His vision swam. He couldn't tell if she was sending him illusions or if he was still disoriented from her unexpected skull-bash. Cold steel was braceleted around his wrists, and he realized that he was being handcuffed. His power waned as Road force-transformed him and he shed his Noah skin for his vulnerable white form. Was she taking him back to his cell? He'd rather face eternal imprisonment than be forced to kill any more.

Only when he was flying through the air did he realize that Road had been carrying him someplace, now throwing him to the ground with surprising severity. His head cracked against the floor.

And then there were hands everywhere. Strapping him down and tangling him up in chains. Ripping his clothes off and leaving him bare. They were  _demons_ , he realized, his left eye activating. Wretched souls carrying out dirty work for Road. But what were they going to do to him?

He was sitting up now, on his knees with chains fastened around him, tethering him to the ground. His pale torso was bare, tattoos standing stark against the milk-white skin of his left shoulder. Road licked her lips.

Oh no...

He eyed the lash in her hands, an honest-to-god whip. He really had crossed the line. The Earl wanted only obedient dogs in his army. And now Road was going to torture him.

A quick snap of her wrist and lashes appeared on his chest, dark red lines welling blood. So he  _could_ bleed in his white form.

She whipped his back, his chest, and his arms, sometimes solemnly, other times with sadistic glee. Occasionally she rammed the head of the whip into his spine and bruises were quick to form. Through all of it, though, Allen didn't make a sound, didn't even move other than tightening his lips or furrowing his brows. Road just hit harder, faster, only on flesh unprotected by fat or muscle.

An hour passed, then another. It was a wonder he hadn't passed out by now. But emotion had long since left Allen Walker's body, gone with his faith and his morals. He could deal with physical pain.

"Are you gonna destroy the Innocence now?" Road scowled, cracking the whip viciously against his chest, right over his heart. He only twitched. He only realized later how stupid that had been, his noncompliance igniting an almost inhuman fury in her.

She switched to fire.

She brought the blazing end of her candles to the skin of his legs and held it there until it started to smoke. She didn't stop until his flesh was completely charred, even when he dropped his callous guise and screamed, and when the skin finally became numb and dead, she moved to a different area. The pain was excruciating, dancing along his nerves.

The agony never dulled, each time it was fresh and exquisite and Allen screamed in delirious pain _._  His pupils shrunk to pinpoints. Even his senses were set on fire; everything was too bright, too loud, too potent, it  _hurts._ The air filled with the pungent and acrid smell of flesh burning. He was aware of the Millennium Earl watching, like some sick voyeur, waiting for him to break.

" _You're almost there, Allen,_ " Road's voice just barely cut through the haze in his mind. Almost there? Was he dying?

Another flame on his leg. Needling poison.

It felt like all his vessels and cells had befallen some maddening disease that left them writhing and shrieking. Burning was like those now-shrieking vessels tearing themselves apart, trying to be rid of the agony. And she wasn't stopping.

It might have gone on like that for another hour. Another day, another week. Maybe she had stopped right then, he had no idea. It didn't really matter—no one was coming for him, no one was going to save him. It occurred to him only then how much he wished someone out there was looking for him. But he was trapped, hopelessly and inescapably lost in the House of the Earl.

When he opened his eyes the next morning, his chains had been wrenched from the floor, freeing him. And in the palm of his had, and scattered along the floor, was the unmistakable dust of an Innocence fragment.

* * *

Instead of Jasdebi waiting by the Arc door, Tyki was there, smoking a cigarette with all the finesse of a drug addict, long drag after long drag after long drag. His head jerked up when he saw Allen walking towards him and he flicked the butt to the floor and ground it out with the heel of his boot. He raised a brow, scrutinizing him from head to toe, then said in a voice that belied his frantic chain smoking:

"Well! You look a lot better than I would've thought after five hours of torture from Road." He lit up another smoke. "Damn," he mumbled, cigarette dangling from his lips. "I'll have to tell her she's getting rusty. You ready to go?"

Outwardly, Allen didn't look much different than he did before. But Road's torture had been harsher than he realized. He had changed into his black form as soon as he woke, expecting the wounds to regenerate. Instead, they healed just as any human's would—the wounds were already starting to scar.

Since his clothes covered everything, he guessed Tyki had deduced the extent of his injuries from his bloodshot eyes and mangled lips bitten in pain. In truth, he looked awful underneath his new shirt and Victorian breeches.

Straight, ridged lines covered his back and chest, the largest and deepest over his ribs, above his heart, and across his spine. They were the pale kind, not red and puffy like his curse mark. The same, unfortunately, could not be said for his legs.

Angry, dark splotches riddled his calves and thighs, bright red in his white form, and a deep mauve in his black form. Road informed him they would scar and laughed at him, saying he looked like he was in camouflage.

"Ready to go where?" Something was off about Tyki. His eyes were too wide and he was still chain smoking.

"Exorcists are on the move," Tyki said. "We don't know where or why, but the Earl put us on Reconnaissance duty 'cause of it. There may be a battle coming up." A battle? He scrunched his brows together. They were going to fight exorcists—enough of them to call it a battle?

"How big is this battle?" Tyki's eyes darted to his, and now he realized what had made him seem so antsy. His pupils were fully dilated and his mouth twisted into a cynic grin.

Bloodlust. Tyki was in the mood to kill.

"Depending on where they are and how many there are..." He took a long drag of his cigarette, casting Allen a wolfish grin. "There may be a war."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First five chapters successfully imported! Leave a comment if you feel inclined, they make my day and inspire me to keep writing. Cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this from ff.net in preparation for the final chapter.


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